Sickness
by Lady Seraphina Lightwood
Summary: In which Peter is sick and Lucy is there to take care of him.
1. Chapter 1

**Sickness**

Heavy dark rain pattered against the window of Lucy's carriage, and it was cold but she knew at Cair Paravel there would be a fire roaring in her bedroom, crackling warmly, and the curtains could be drawn, shutting out the rain and the darkness.

She could lay her head on Peter's chest, feel her brother's strong arms around her, protecting her from the world. Then she could forget about this nonsense with the Lone Islands. Perhaps Peter had been right when he protested she was too young to handle it on her own…she was only sixteen…

The carriage jolting to a stop jerked Lucy's head upright. Home already? She must have fallen asleep.

"We've arrived, my queen," the faun who had been driving the horses called back. Someone opened her door and she got down from the carriage, accepting their help.

Mr. Tumnus was waiting for her on the steps to the castle. His eyes twinkled merrily.

"Mr Tumnus!" Lucy threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. "Oh, I'm so happy to see you. I could cry for joy.

"Lucy Pevensie." He hugged her back gently. "I'm pleased to see you as well. It's been quite a long time since you went away."

"Oh, terribly long. I've dreadfully missed the Cair. It's been almost a month."

"It has been three months, Queen Lucy."

She was dumbfounded. "Three months?"

Mr Tumnus walked her into the castle, merely nodding in response.

"Now, where is Peter?" Lucy questioned. "I know Susan and Edmund are both off in Archenland, but why wasn't Peter there to hug me? He usually would be."

"King Peter? He's sick in bed."

Fear closed Lucy's throat. In an instant, she was gone, tearing up the stairs to where Peter's quarters were. But when she threw open the door, the sight stopped her.

That _couldn't_ be Peter.

It couldn't be her noble, stupidly brave brother.

Peter was a tall, strong man, with broad shoulders and golden tanned skin. Lucy had been away to the Lone Islands only three months, and it wasn't long enough for Peter to have wasted away in such a frightening manner.

He was now so pale that his skin was almost gray. He was thin and frail beneath the covers, his thin fingers moving weakly as if searching for something.

His voice, when he spoke, was faint and barely there. "Lucy…I know Susan has told you not to go outside with your hair such a mess…and you don't even have your sunshade…"

"Oh, Peter!"

Lucy fell to her knees beside him and sobbed.

[A/N] Next update coming tomorrow or the next day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

Lucy spent all the time she could in Peter's room. Exhausted from the Lone Islands, she had desperately longed for Peter's strong arms around her, but now it was her that held her sick older brother.

She snuggled his frail wasted form in her arms when he wept in his delirium, to help him when breathing was very hard, and to coax some soup through his lips. She sang to him and promised him Edmund would come home to comfort him soon. When he talked in delirium to their mother, in the Other Place, Lucy answered, though she was none too sure what their mother would have said. After all, she didn't remember that place much.

Sometimes Peter's glassy eyes recognized her.

He would smile vaguely at the sight of his sister, and then he would scold her in a gentle teasing tone.

"Oh, Lu, your hair looks such a mess. Quickly now, go brush it before Susan sees you."

Or,

"Lucy, love, your dress is crumpled and completely filthy. Go put on something fresh before Susan catches you in that. You know she'll fuss."

Whatever Peter said, Lucy promised him she would do it. Only rarely was there time to obey before Peter fell asleep again, or even slipped into his mind where Lucy did not exist.

When he was in this state, it frightened her. He babbled in delirium to people she'd never heard of, or spoke to Oreius, but never once did he meet her eyes or speak her name. Nor Edmund's or Susan's.

During the day, the healers would always be bustling about in the background. At night, she watched over him alone and clung to his hand, weeping, wishing desperately that he would just be himself again and come out of this fevered haze. More than anything she wanted Edmund and Susan home, but Edmund was off on a campaign and she did not dare write him, while Susan was in Archenland and Lucy did not want to ruin her trip.

Peter did wake up once, when she'd been home for a week. He looked up at her, eyes clearer than they had been, and sighed. "Why are you crying, Lu? There's no call to get so upset when you know I'll be fine. Please don't."

This only upset her more. "I'm sorry, Pete," she sobbed, "I just can't stop crying."

"You never cry, sweetheart. Sit down with me." His thin hand freed itself from hers and stroked her hair gently, weightless on her head. "Tell me what's troubling my Lucy Lu."

"I'm scared you're going to die," she said, and knew that to Peter, who had never feared death the way most would, it would sound ridiculous. But his face didn't change. He didn't look like he thought she was ridiculous, certainly.

"If I die, Lucy, then I die and I will be with Aslan." He stroked her hair again. "But you needn't worry because I don't intend on dying for many years to come. Don't cry, Lu." And his ragged breathing slowed into the steady rhythm of sleep.

The next morning, Lucy woke in the armchair next to his bed. Peter was still sleeping quietly and the room was cold, but a servant was putting more wood onto the fire. The head healer, a dryad called Itzel, was checking on Peter carefully. Noticing Lucy was awake, she turned and looked at her with a grave expression.

"Queen Lucy," she said. "We think we have come to a conclusion on what his illness is."


	3. Chapter 3

**[A/N] Rei, I read your review and thought it had a kind of rude tone to it. No need for that. **

**Have you readers ever thought that if Lucy used her cordial every time, there wouldn't be a storyline? But so you won't have a fit on me, there's an explanation offered in the chapter. **

**Credit for the idea in Peter's sickness goes to lost-in-elysium. **

**Short, short chapter.**

**Part 3**

After the healer explained, Lucy sat there feeling numb.

Poison.

Oh, how she wished desperately she had her healing cordial now. But Edmund had taken it along with him on his campaign to prevent Peter worrying over him.

No, she wasn't meant to carry it with her, but Peter had been fearful that Edmund would get hurt and have the cordial miles away. Too far to be any kind of help.

Of course, Peter couldn't have known that _he_ would be the one in dire need of it.

She could only hope Edmund would return in time to administer it to him.


End file.
